


Tell Me Where It Hurts

by Iamsherlocked07



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, dont mind me working my shit out through fic writing, these two being soft and tender as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamsherlocked07/pseuds/Iamsherlocked07
Summary: Toby copes with his brother’s death with the help of CJ. Takes place after 6.16 Drought Conditions.
Relationships: C. J. Cregg/Toby Ziegler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Tell Me Where It Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all know I love a good hurt/comfort fic. This is angsty and I’m sorry. I realize that’s not everyone’s cup of tea but writing this was super cathartic for me and I hope it brings someone comfort. I was thinking a lot about Toby and this ep and idk this is what came to me. 
> 
> TW for self harm/self injury and blood.

CJ sat facing Toby on the couch, her leg tucked under her, knee touching his. There was something different about him that she couldn’t quite place. She knew better than their friends and colleagues who assumed he was sad and gruff always, without reason. She saw through all of it, saw the light behind his eyes. But tonight he was dull and withdrawn in a way he usually wasn’t with her, even if he was hurting. 

CJ reached out, laying her hand on his arm, stroking the fabric of his suit jacket. 

“What is it?” she asked quietly, “what aren’t you telling me?” Her mind raced through the possibilities. Maybe there was more to the story of David’s death. Something else that happened during his fight with Josh. A confrontation when he was back in New York. Concerns about the twins. 

Toby hesitated a moment, CJ could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Finally, he wordlessly slipped out of his jacket. His eyes locked on hers as he unbuttoned his left shirt cuff and slowly rolled up the sleeve. 

On his forearm, right below the crease of his elbow were three neat cuts. The skin was raised and bleeding slightly leaving speckled stains on his white sleeve. Toby studied her face, bracing for her reaction. Her eyes widened, her lower lip quivering slightly before she schooled her expression. 

“Oh, sweetie. No...” she shook her head, her cold finger tips pressing lightly across the angry marks. “You don’t deserve this,” she whispered, her lower lids brimming with tears. 

“I do,” he choked bitterly. 

“No, Toby,” she said firmly, taking his face between her hands. “You don’t,” she replied, thumb stroking his cheekbone. Tears spilled down both their faces as she looked at him earnestly. 

“You could have come to me. I could have tried to....” her voice broke as he shook his head. She knew there was nothing she could have said or done to change his mind. 

“I was drunk and angry and,” he swallowed, “I miss him, CJ. I’m just— here. I don’t know what to do.” He leaned foreword, resting his head against her shoulder. “I failed him. I just wanted to understand how he must have felt when he...” Toby’s voice broke. 

CJ wrapped her arms around him fiercely, cradling his head against her. After a few moments when his breathing slowed, she pulled back slightly. 

“C’mere,” she instructed gently, pulling him to his feet. “I need to clean those. I think they’re deeper than you realize, love.” 

Her open affection, her tenderness was not lost on him. Their use of endearments was already a seldom occurrence and back when they were together he’d always been the one more affectionate with words.

CJ led him to his bedroom before turning to unknot his tie, starting on his shirt buttons. His hands covered hers, taking over. She walked to his dresser, pulling out a t shirt and sweatpants which she handed him. 

Her hands absentmindedly unclasped her necklace before fumbling with the zipper on her black cocktail dress. 

“You’re staying?” Toby asked, a note of surprise in his voice. 

“Of course I am. Of course, Toby. I’m not going anywhere.”

She slipped out of the dress, letting it pool to the floor then rifled through the dresser once more for a pair of his boxers and her favorite old sweatshirt from CCNY. 

“You’ve got a first aid kit in the bathroom?”

“Yeah uh, under the sink. But CJ—“ he started as she walked into the bathroom, stopping suddenly. 

To her horror, there was blood dripped on the side of the tub, in the sink, on the floor, staining the tissues which filled the garbage can. Her stomach churned as she leaned heavily on the door frame. 

“Toby what did you do?” She couldn’t keep the pain from her voice, her hands shaking. 

“I didn’t mean for it to be that bad I just...I didn’t realize how much I was...” he stammered. 

“You could have—Jesus, honey, you could have...” CJ rubbed her forehead, trying to compose herself. She took a deep breath, pushing up her sleeves. Toby watched her silently as she looked around, deciding where to begin. She softly closed the door behind her, trying to spare him the reminder of last night’s events. 

Toby listened to the water run as CJ rattled around looking for disinfectant spray. At one point he could have sworn her heard a stifled whimper and he imagined her quickly wiping at her tears. 

When the door opened again, the bathroom was spotless and CJ stood with the first aid kit in her hands. She walked to where he was sitting on the bed and knelt in front of him, her joints cracking lightly on her way down. 

“Claudia Jean—“

“Shh,” she hushed, reaching for his left arm. CJ soaked a cotton ball in peroxide and began meticulously wiping the cuts. She tried not to look uneasy when he didn’t wince, barely reacting but for the tightening of his jaw. 

Her fingers were gentle, soft, even as she prodded at him. CJ inspected his arm closely, lightly tracing each line. He shivered at the contact and her head snapped up. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Jeanie,” he lulled. Her shoulders relaxed and she began her work again, spreading a thin layer of antibacterial cream across the inflamed area. 

Toby’s free hand reached forward to stroke her hair lovingly. CJ sighed, leaning into the touch. 

“If these don’t look better in a day or two, I’m taking you to get them looked at.”

She finished, wrapping his arm in gauze, secured with medical tape. Toby offered her a hand as she rose to her feet. 

“When was the last time you ate something?”

He genuinely couldn’t remember. In all honestly he was feeling a bit lightheaded. She lead him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit at the table. CJ rifled through the cabinets before procuring a packet of instant oatmeal and a bowl. 

“Oatmeal?” he asked teasingly, eyebrows raised. 

“I’m trying to find something comforting and filling that isn’t going to clog your arteries,” CJ quipped, “plus, you love oatmeal,” she added quietly. 

Toby smiled indulgently. She knew exactly how to put him together again, he’d never be able to adequately thank her for that. 

They sat in comfortable silence while he ate, CJ gripping his left hand tightly, brushing his knuckles with her thumb. 

“I think maybe you should see someone,” she said hesitantly. He nodded stiffly, conveying his agreement. It was time. 

Later that night they made love, soft and easy and gentle and simple and familiar. She breathed life into him again with every kiss, nip, and roll of her hips. She pressed him against the mattress, grounding him. Pouring over him, trying to convey her adoration. Trying to show him how hard she would fight for him when he couldn’t. 

As she lay, curled around him, whispering in the dark to soothe him to sleep, Toby knew. 

He was loved. He was cherished. And she would always bring him back to earth again.


End file.
